


The demon you know

by Fancy_Dragonqueen



Series: Demons at an Orphanage [2]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cffall19, ColdFlash Week 2019, Hurt/Comfort, Len is a Dramaqueen, M/M, Minor Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 04:15:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20754179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fancy_Dragonqueen/pseuds/Fancy_Dragonqueen
Summary: The orphanage hadn’t been his idea.In fact he had been against the whole thing.He just couldn’t afford to get attached.





	The demon you know

**Author's Note:**

  * For [drunkraiinbow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/drunkraiinbow/gifts).

> <3  
Day two Coldflashweek!   
Have fun with this Identity Reveal!

It had worked so far.

The criminals left them in peace and the police were glad that they didn’t need to look after some more juveniles.

Everything was fine until one scrawny little child started sneaking around.

It had been way too easy to get information about Barry Allen, hell he hadn’t even tried to be quiet when he broke into the young man’s room.

Mr. Allen had just kept sleeping, passed out on the bed, still halfway clothed. Len had searched his backpack, only to find evidence that the man was a badge.

Just great.

Funny enough the guy wasn’t sneaky. His backpack was messy but there were files about the break ins the CCPD would never solve. No one had ever caught him in the act.

It was cute that they thought a boy like that could easily catch him.

Then again Mick had told him about Barry Allen's reaction during the meal.

Len couldn’t deny that he looked like he got enough food or sleep. The question was if he had reacted that badly to getting hit by Mick because he knew who Mick was, because he was intimidated by the gruff appearance or if there was something more serious behind his behaviour.

He looked a bit like the normal nerd so Len could only thing it was from being bullied at school. Wouldn’t surprise him.

A soft snore interrupted his thoughts and Mr Allen turned in his sleep. He landed on his back, limbs stretched and looked like nothing could wake him up. Pity. If he ever lived on the streets he would be robbed or worse dead by the end of the day.

Carefully he put the files back into the backpack, switching off the light and closing the door before talking to Mick. It did go as well as he thought with Mick wanting to storm the lad’s room and demand answers. They couldn’t afford that. Maybe it was really just a coincidence that he was here. They were too good to be caught.

It was easy to distract Mick.

A heated kiss and hands on his chest, underneath his shirt was enough to keep him occupied. Len knew that they would talk about it but that had time for later. He also knew that Mick knew he was stalling time. Why, he wasn’t so sure himself.

Sated and happy, with Mick napping quietly at his side he ate some of the spaghetti, when he heard someone walking towards the door. A quick gesture killed the light and another one woke up Mick.

“Sh. Someone wants to visit.”

Len didn’t know if that someone was one of the kids or their newest addition. He almost laughed when he heard someone rummaging on the lock. They hadn’t locked the door, Kate sometimes had nightmares and came cuddling into their bed. They didn’t want her to be scared because she couldn’t reach them.

It took seconds to leave the bed and wait beside the door but he wouldn’t have needed to hurry. It took ages. He could almost hear Mick laughing from the bed, more amused than alerted and Len rolled his eyes at his partner.

There was a whine and way too much noise to not wake up the whole house. All of the kids except Kate were living on the floor above so they didn’t need to fear for them to wake up but still.

Suddenly the handle moved and the door opened, the man hanging at the handle, squeaking like a startled animal. He didn’t even turn to look for dangers or if he had woken up someone. No self preservation at all.

“Damn that was embarrassing.”

Len could hear the sheets shifting. Not enough for Mick to get out of the bed but enough to know that the man was pressing a hand on his mouth to not start laughing.

He rolled his eyes and grabbed the guy, pressing him into the wall. 

“It sure was.”

Len was pretty sure Mr Allen would faint but instead he stared wide eyed into the dark, clearly not seeing anything. He smirked. Nice. It did help that the guy wasn’t that bad on his eyes. He had a thing for scrawny, lean males, especially with a face as nice as this. Mick and him had always been open in their relationship and he knew for sure that Mick wasn’t opposed to the male either.

If he weren’t a badge.

It was way too easy to recognize that it didn’t scare him off, in fact it rather seemed to excite the man. Len needed to rethink his former thought. Barry Allen wouldn’t even last a day on the streets.

The orphanage hadn’t been his idea.

In fact he had been against the whole thing.

He just couldn’t afford to get attached.

Mick had already fallen for the tiny little girl and Lisa hadn’t been any better. He couldn’t deny them anything when they ganged up on him. Wanting them to be happy. Like they deserved.

It wasn’t exactly easy to find the orphanage, but Len never backed off a challenge. Not in the past and definitely not now.

In the end everything went fine.

They were able to get a nice house, were able to afford the costs and soon the house was full of teenagers and children, sometimes even young adults that didn’t know where to go.

He would have given a lot to have the chance they were giving those kiddos right now. Most importantly it made his sister happy and Mick didn’t get any funny ideas. They had almost lost each others friendship, each other's love when the last big heist went wrong. Mick had been burned so badly that he had thought the man would die. He hadn’t but the fight had almost ripped himself apart.

Now this house felt like a home. Those kids felt like family and Len would never say it out loud but he would do anything possible and impossible to keep them safe. To keep them together.

He didn’t like to show his face to them, always acting out of the dark. For most of them it was fine. They respected him and heeded his words.

They didn’t leave the house to steal or wreak havoc. There were rules and those rules were not to get the attention of anyone.

  
  


"Barry Allen, 23. What's a badge doing in my house."

He drawled, deep and rich, the way he knew Mick loved to hear him talk and it clearly had the same effect on the male. Nothing happened. No excuses. No tries to escape. Not even a twitch underneath his fingers.

Len knew that Mick was watching everything, both able to see better in the dark than a normal human. Perks of working without light. It was interesting what the human body could achieve with the right training.

“Your house?”

What a lovely voice to such a lovely face. Len snorted. He knew that this wasn’t what the man had in mind and it would only take a bit of persuasion to get the information needed. Then they would decide what to make with the little snitch.

“Cute. Useless, but cute.”

“Hey…I’m not. Useless that is.”

Mick really needed to get an award for staying still. The boy was hilarious.

“Technically I’m not a badge. I’m a forensic scientist a..and I’m really sorry for breaking in. I swear I didn’t want to steal anything.”

Technically that was a huge load of bullshit. Of course he was a badge, he was working for the CCPD and even if he was a lousy one, he was still one of them.

“I just. Look. There was talk about some demon living here. I know. It’s funny but criminals fear to come here and I wanted to check if everything is alright. I didn’t plan this. Any of this. I swear.”

Len tasted the words and turned them around in his head. Sure, he knew what they called him. A demon. His sister had laughed for minutes, crying tears when someone had told her. Mick had been a bit taken aback, as he clearly was more fit to be a demon than Len was. Somehow he doubted that the guy was dumb enough to really believe in demons. Even if they existed they couldn’t be worse than humans.

“And what did you find, Barry Allen, not a badge, forensic scientist.”

The impatience was almost radiating off the little badge. It was cute. He pressed him against the wall a bit harder, making a show of towering over him, much to Mick’s amusement as the man liked to watch him dominating others.

Pity. He would have made a decent snack for both of them.

“They are happy.” 

The almost scream made him lessen the pressure. Okay? That wasn’t what he had expected.

  
  


“They are happy. The children. They don’t seem to be hurt and they like it here. Mick seems to be nice. It’s- Everything is too good. There is nothing in the records, children with a long history in crime suddenly not committing felony anymore? That’s impossible.”

It was.

They still taught the children to steal. Just not to get arrested. Not that Len would tell him any of that. He put his finger back onto the man’s lips, daring him to be quiet to let Len think about it. It was oddly distracting when He had started to gnaw on his lip, already too chapped because he clearly didn’t drink enough. Didn’t care about himself enough obviously. The files had way more information in a scrawny handwriting than he had thought they would have. Clearly Barry Allen wasn’t as dumb as he first seemed, a mystery itself to be solved.

“It’s not. Haven’t you heard? There’s a demon running this orphanage.” 

Instead of answering to that, the man had the nerve to lick his finger. His tongue flicking out, maybe not even conscious about it but enough to send a bolt of  _ something  _ through his belly. Len took in a sharp breath. Really, Barry Allen had no idea how to handle a predator.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Barry Allen. Go back to bed. No harm will happen to you this night.”

He stepped back into the darkness, hoping that Barry Allen would take the clue and vanish instead of reaching for the light switch. Which he himself would do. Well. He would have fought back from the start if he’d been careless enough to be caught.

Barry Allen wasn’t like that, he sprinted out of the room and they could hear a door closing and a key to be turned. He hadn’t even picked up his stuff.

Sighing exasperatedly Len turned towards Mick who was leaning against the headboard, shaking with laughter which he could see even in the dark of the room. With a huff and a quiet laugh himself he closed the door and switched on the light, coming back to the bed to steal a quick kiss.

“He’s a mess.”

Mick smirked at him and shook his head.

“He is. But I don’t think he means harm. It was kinda cute, like watching a little mouse being played by a cat.”

Len rolled his eyes, he hated when they referred to him as a cat. He wasn’t lazy at all. Sure he could fall asleep at odd places and still know everything that was going on around him, but that wasn’t the point.

“So, what did he do that he startled you?”

There was mischief in Mick’s eyes and Len would rather deny it, that someone like Barry Allen could have startled him but indeed. He had.

“He licked my finger.”

Mick snorted. It was an ugly sound and nothing that should make Len happy when he rolled his eyes at his partners amusement.

“He sure is an interesting one. What we gonna do with him? Would be a shame to get rid of him.”

But they would get rid of him if he caused problems. They couldn’t afford to save every pretty face when they wanted to stay alive and out of prison themselves. Len shook his head, thinking. They couldn’t. He opened the nightstand, reaching for his gun. With a short nod he left the room, picking up the set Mr. Allen had lost. It was cheap and wouldn’t do shit but it was fun to start learning.

Sadly the man wouldn’t have the time to learn it properly.

Unlocking the room he entered, gun raised.

Only to sigh.

What was it with that guy?

The light was on, again. Barry Allen was lying on his bed, only in his boxer shorts and socks. The rest of his clothes strewn all over the floor. He was deep asleep, not moving at all. Len closed his eyes and sighed. He had thought the man would put up a fight, or would try to run. Instead the backpack was still in place, the phone discarded and after a quick check unused. Barry Allen had gone straight to the room and fallen asleep again after being caught and threatened. As if nothing had happened.

Barry, as he really couldn’t see him as a grown adult, whined quietly in his sleep, goosebumps covering his legs and damn. He looked quite nice, even if the socks were bothering him. Who even left the socks on when going to bed?

Quietly he put away the gun, switched off the light and leaned over the young man. Still no reaction. Len shook his head and did something Mick would tease him with forever.

He reached down and grabbed a slim ankle, carefully rolling down the sock as to not wake him. Barry sighed in his sleep, shivered a bit at the cold touch. Len’s fingers were always a bit colder, a gift from too much frostbite during his childhood years. Len didn’t have a fetish for feet but somehow Barry had quite nice ones, slender and delicate, especially his ankles. His touch lingered a bit longer before he got rid of the other sock.

Letting them fall onto the floor, he leaned over the male to turn him around a bit until he was able to grab the blanket. Tired eyes blinked up to him, a soft dopey smile on his lips. Len wasn’t sure if he wanted to kiss them or to beat the dopey trust out of the boy. Forensic scientist. Someone like Barry Allen should rather work in a kindergarden or something like that. Something soft and quiet, fitting to his character. Not a place where he could see the darkness in people.

Len knew darkness. It changed people. Not for the better.

Shoving his thoughts away he tucked the blanket closer to Barry’s body, covering the lean male. It almost looked as if he wanted to reach out, the way his arms moved but Len would have none of that, his fingers touching soft, fluffy hair. Barry whined and leaned into the touch, closing his eyes like a lost kitten, way too trustworthy, way to happy. He watched him fall asleep, afraid to move, afraid to stay.

This was wrong. So wrong.

Angry with himself he turned, just to almost fall over the clothes. With a frown he tidied them up and laid the socks on top.

What a mess.

Closing the door, he came back to their room, Mick with glasses on to read a book. He ignored the raised eyebrows.

“So. Does that mean we need a bigger bed?”

************

In the end they didn’t.

Not that it would have been a good idea to let the badge stay. Even if he had somehow managed to get Mick’s approval.

Gathering information about the young man had been interesting. Intriguing to the point where he had broken into the young man’s apartment, only to find it empty. He had left food on the counter but the next day it had still been there.

A few weeks later the apartment was lived in by another person and Len had found Barry Allen.

Comatose, after being struck by lightning during the storm that had destroyed the STAR labs  particle accelerator.

This is why he tried to not get attached to people.

His sister and Mick were enough. They were family. They didn’t need someone else.  _ He _ didn’t need someone else.

They fell back into old patterns. One heist here, taking care of the kids there.

Maybe he kept track of Barry, got to know that he was transferred into STAR labs. His condition didn’t change.

Mick and him kept fighting and making up, problem when one of them felt too little and one of them felt too much. Funnily enough it was one of those days that he got to know that Barry was awake again.

Not only awake but moving.

Almost too healthy to be true.

If you were in a coma for months then you weren’t able to run around after waking up. And Len had checked. Barry hadn’t been awake for weeks. Len knew that recovery took time, has had enough broken bones to know that the muscles would cease when you weren’t able to work out and yet. Yet Barry Allen was walking again, working and laughing with his friends.

He moved into a new apartment.

Mick and him made up and they didn’t talk about it but Mick prepared food for Barry again.

Two days later a well planned heist gone wrong ended with Len almost getting caught.

Len knew that Mick didn’t approve of the way he was going at things. He didn’t approve of Len being coldhearted and able to kill if the need arose. It didn’t happen often but it did.

This Streak was dangerous. He knew that Mick only feared for his safety but he couldn’t submit defeat. Defeat was weakness they couldn’t afford.

Getting the cold gun would change the odds. He needed to up his game and he needed to do it  _ fast. _

The heat gun of course struck a chord in Mick and it made him happy to finally work with his friend again. Not as lovers but as criminal masterminds. He had forgotten how good it felt to work alongside someone that didn’t need words to understand, that could interpret one look, one gesture. It felt like a  _ rush _ .

Of course they didn’t beat the Streak, but that was okay. They were in the game and people knew them now. He wasn't just the demon, he was Captain Cold now. And Heatwave was a pretty stunning name for Mick, it was fitting.

Fire and Ice.

They belonged together.

It was only fair that Mick was angry at him during the prison transport. Not only had he got them both arrested, but he had clearly seen the Streak in action, intrigued by the man. The flirting hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“What are you doing?” Mick’s eyes had asked him, fiery. It was never a good sign when Mick only stared at him without really talking.

He couldn’t answer the question.

He still cared for Mick.

He somehow still cared for Barry Allen.

They were courting him. He knew that. He just didn’t want to acknowledge it. 

And now Mick thought about him cheating on both of them. Which wasn’t fair. Barry Allen didn’t even know that they were doing that. He had eaten each and every thing they had offered him, washed the dishes and left little gifts. The first time he had tried to bake something, which had led Len to write that he should please never do that again.

Of course Lisa was pissed at him too.

They didn’t get it.

With the Streak in town they weren’t able to easily steal anymore. What had been a blessing to others was a curse for robbers. Len didn’t mind when the Streak went against the Santinis or against other thieves. He himself liked to go against him, the rush, the adrenaline. When he managed to freeze the man in place and got away with the loot.

It was addictive.

The banter.

The game.

He knew it wasn’t fair but it felt like the rush he had felt with Mick whenever they worked together.

Playing with the Streak was dangerous, he shouldn’t put his family in danger and just that day he felt that it was too much and that he needed to stop.

The red-clad man had almost gotten to him. A shot to his legs and his stomach had stopped the Speedster, another into his back had finally brought him down.

Len didn’t enjoy the scream of pain. He didn’t like to cause pain but it was necessary. At least that’s what he told himself. The Streak would heal. He had seen little cuts on his face healing within minutes.

Seeing him wheezing on the ground, grabbing his stomach and face twisted in pain. It just didn’t feel _ right.  _ Len had felt angry at himself and there was no way to let it out on a person that wasn’t even involved in his inner turmoil.

The man didn’t even try to get up, leaving Len with serious wonder if he had hurt him too much. If he had finally lost it in cold rage. It reminded him too much of his father to be comfortable.

He needed to stop. Needed to go somewhere, where he wasn’t judged, where he didn’t get Mick’s knowing look, didn’t get the soft, sad smile Lisa has reserved for him when his brain went bad.

He needed to see Barry.

It was too early to visit him, so he wandered around, drank a glass of whiskey or two in Saints and Sinners until his hands stopped shaking. Most of the time it wasn’t possible to shut off his brain. Only when he focused on something, when he needed to plan the next heist, maybe that’s why he started raiding a lot after Barry fall into a coma.

He had been antsy, scared.

He wanted nothing more than to bask in the sunshine radiating from the young man, seemingly luring out the goodness in people. He had seen it, how people reacted to Barry, how they tried to be better. How he made them smile.

It didn’t take long to finally reach Barry’s apartment, this time he didn’t have anything to eat from Mick. Takeout it was. From the favourite Chinese place where Barry always got his Takeout from. Him and Mick had tidied up the place often enough to know that.

And Barry might not know who had done it, but he’d tried every time after that, for at least a day or two. It was almost funny to look at.

Yes. He really needed to see Barry.

Breaking into the house was easy, Barry never changed the locks and he never checked the windows, once they were sure to meet with him for real and not only in secret via food they would make him secure his rooms. But there was still time to do that.

Carefully he walked into the kitchen, leaving the containers there. Ignoring the dirty dishes for now he wandered in front of the bedroom, listening for signs that Barry was still awake.

Nothing.

Len smiled, sleeping Barry was a work of art, one could never know in what state of dress or undress the man could be found. Not that he had seen him completely naked before, mostly because Barry knew that they were visiting. At least that’s what Len hoped.

The moon was full this night, shining into the room and onto the bed where Barry was lying, curled in on himself. Something was wrong, normally he occupied half of the bed in an attempt to stretch as far as possible. He never slept on his side.

And he never wore what he wore right now.

Len stopped and closed his eyes, tears suddenly burning and trying to breathe.

Barry wasn’t wearing boxer shorts or jeans or something equally ridiculous.

Barry wore a suit. Red leather. It was halfway down his body, trapping his feet that were still in their shoes. His body was shivering due to the cold. Not only the cold in the room but the cold radiating from his body.

There were wet splashes on the floor where the ice had melted, most likely the bed was wet too.

Dark bruises littered his body, building a stark contrast to the lily white skin. Way too pale to be healthy. Len could see where the frostbite had surpassed the second stage and was already at the third. Dark skin, bluish almost black.

The urge to vomit was too much.

He should have seen the similarities. Should have known that something had happened to Barry. Should have connected the dots. How fast Barry had regenerated, how happy the Streak seemed to be the whole time. The puns, the laughter. Those eyes.

Len felt how his body started to shake again, clenching his fingers together. He needed to do something.

Everything felt disconnected and damn if he didn’t know the symptoms of dissociation. It didn’t matter.  _ He  _ didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was to help Barry, to make him healthy again. To make sure he didn’t freaking die because of Len.

On autopilot he went back to the kitchen, grabbed a water bottle and searched for hot-water bottle to be filled. It took too long for the water to boil, so he started to heat up water in the microwave too, almost burning his hands when he dunked some towels in it. They would cool down a bit and not be enough but he needed to get something warm on Barry.

Carefully he covered the exposed skin with the towels, flinching back when Barry whined and shivered with pain.

His own fingers were shaking when he peeled Barry out of the rest of his uniform, covering his feet and his legs with blankets, grabbing every cloth he could find to tuck him in, keep him warm. He knew that he couldn’t put him under a warm shower, that he couldn’t rub him warm.

He didn’t even know why Barry was here and not in STAR labs, suddenly angry because they would know what to do. Would know what to do to help Barry.

They had the equipment. The medication. All Len had was blankets and a sorry excuse for a hot-water bottle. It wouldn’t be enough.

Carefully he checked for the towel to be still warm, grabbed more blankets to put them over Barry, his own parka to keep him warm. Every other time it would have warmed his heart to see Barry covered in his parka while lying in bed, but this time it only made him sick.

Sick with himself.

There was no time for self pity.

He retreated into the kitchen, grabbing each and every bottle he could find and started to fill them with hot water. To return to Barry and put them underneath the blankets, careful to have something covering the man and not burn him and cause more pain. 

Barry was still not conscious, having not moved at all during the process, but he was breathing and his cheeks were rosy warm. Which. Len really didn’t know if it was a good or a bad sign.

Slowly as to not cause him more pain he lifted Barry’s head, pressing the open neck of the bottle at his lips. He watched his lips moving, slowly drinking a bit of the room warm water. Hazel-green eyes opened and looked around unfocused. They looked glazed, but found Len. The dopey smile was back again.

Damn.

Barry shouldn’t smile at him like that, not as injured as he was, not with Len being his enemy. Not with Len unable to breath when he looked at Barry, at the discarded uniform and his own parka.

Len laid Barry’s head back into the pillow. The moment he tried to yank back his hand long fingers wrapped itself around his wrist.

“Stay.”

Stay.

As if he could stay when he’d hurt the man he lo-liked so much. That made him smile and think of a better life. Mick had seen the worst in him and he had hoped for Barry to maybe see the best in him.

And then Len had ruined everything.

The fingers on his wrist started to caress him slowly, calming him down enough to see Barry looking at him in the dark. He hadn’t switched on the lights but was sure that Barry knew who was standing in front of him.

“Can you come to me, Demon? I need...” Barry stopped, shyly looking up at him. 

Len took a step closer to him again, his other hand grasping for Barry’s, not sure if he wanted to break their contact or hold him closer.

“I’m cold. Can you... Can we cuddle?”

Body warmth would be good for Barry’s health. Without a second thought he followed the wish, slowly getting rid of most of his clothes, hesitating for a second when it came to the longsleeve he was wearing. Len closed his eyes.

Mick had seen them. Lisa had seen them.

He owed it to Barry.

With shaking fingers he got rid of the longsleeve, well knowing how his body would look like. He was covered in scars, old ones, new ones. It wasn’t a nice view.

Mick liked them, always reassured him that it showed how much he had survived until now. How strong he was.

He tried not to look at Barry when he climbed into the bed, only clad in boxer shorts. The short burst of lightning was unexpected and left him a bit confused but he wasn’t able to say anything when a pair of slender arms dragged him down, underneath the blankets.

“It was wet.” Was the only explanation he got when the cold body pressed itself against his own, warm one. He normally was radiating warmth - much to Mick’s amusement - but his fingers and feet were always cold. Especially after he got the cold gun.

Barry didn’t have the same restraints as Len, as he was cuddling up to him, seeking out the warmth and entangling their legs. It felt more like he was trapping Len so that he wasn’t going to flee.

“Hmm… warm….”

Len hesitated for a moment before slowly lifting his arms and encircling Barry, letting him lay down onto his chest and stroke his back. He wasn’t sure how much pressure was okay or how much it hurt. He was afraid to ask.

“Thinking too much.”

Barry’s lips moved on his skin. The sensation almost made him jump out of bed again.

“I hoped you would come.” He whispered, taking him by surprise. “I always feel safe when you watch me.”

And if that didn’t sound creepy and like a complete nutjob, nothing else did.

Len shook his head and squeezed a bit harder. He was pretty sure Barry knew who he was and still, the man cuddled closer, content and almost happy?

Suddenly he felt exhausted, the adrenaline gone, his mind too blank to be of use. Barry smelled nice, a bit of ozone and somehow peaches. It was soothing.

All he wanted right now was curl in on himself and have Mick with them, feeling both close to him.

He had hurt Barry. Had almost lost himself. He’d never wanted to be like his father and yet he couldn’t run from himself, couldn’t run from becoming like Lewis.

Chapped lips touched his own.

Almost violently he jerked back, lips tingling from electricity.

Barry was staring at him with wide eyes, gleaming in the moonlight.

“Sorry. I didn’t want to. I thought.” It was clear that Barry thought he had done something wrong, face twisted in confusion and  _ hurt,  _ about to back off.

Len didn’t let him.

He wanted to ask, wanted to know how Barry could do that after everything he had put him through. Instead he crashed their lips together, nothing soft, nothing loving about it. It was desperate, needy and Len could feel his eyes burn behind their lids.

When they parted again, his head was guided onto Barry’s shoulder, face tugged into his neck, able to hide himself. He wasn’t cold anymore. Barry was radiating heat and there was a soft thrumm in his body, as if he was vibrating subtly.

The door opened.

Len could hear the squeaking of the door and tried to free himself from the embrace, instantly alert of both their vulnerability. Barry just kept petting his hair adding soft humming instead of trying to get battle ready.

“That’s not even surprising.”

Mick’s voice sounded terribly amused. And what was he doing over here? Did he know that Barry was the Flash? Why hadn’t he talked to him about it?

“It’s okay if I join you?”

He didn’t even know what was okay anymore.

“Of course. I scared him.”

He could hear Mick sigh, then the rustle of clothes and soon he felt the blanket lifting, cold air hitting his back. He shivered. Not for long, as Mick’s body slid in behind him, scarred and muscled arm caging him between Mick and Barry. It should feel bad, should be too much but instead he could feel his body relaxing and the knot in his stomach slowly loosen as if something had clicked in place.

“I didn’t know that Barry was the Flash.” It was stunning how Mick always seemed to know what he was thinking. How people could think he was dumb was beyond Len’s knowledge. “What I knew was that you liked Barry and that there were strong feelings involved with the Flash. You don’t do that with random people. Didn’t know how to get us four together but problems are easier to solve than I thought, huh?”

Easily solved? Nothing was easy at all.

Barry was shaking with silent laughter.

Len wanted to scream, or cry. With a wounded growl he shoved against both, trying to free himself.

“Woah. Easy there.”

“Nothing’s easy.” He snapped. How could they act as if nothing was wrong?

“I almost killed you.”

He had seen the injuries. He had seen the Flash go down. He had  _ shot  _ him.

Mick’s arms grabbed him from behind, a normally soothing gesture which only Mick was allowed to do. It only fuelled his anger at himself this time. He felt like a trapped animal.

“But you didn’t. I heal fast. I promise.”

Barry’s voice was quiet. Not bothered at all. If Len had the ability to think straight, he would have heard the sadness in it. He wasn’t able to.

The speedster sighed and let go of Len and left the bed. He wanted to scream at him to come back, that he couldn’t be cold, that his injuries would get  _ worse _ , that he couldn’t go now and leave them alone. Couldn’t leave Len.

His eyes widened when he looked at Barry who smiled down at him.

The dark patches were almost gone, replaced with creamy white skin.

“What…?”

“He’s healing fast. You know that, Len.”

Barry smiled and crawled back into the bed, carefully keeping a distance without being too far away. He didn’t dare to look away even if all he wanted was to turn and hide inside of Mick.

“You scared me. But not because you hurt me. You could have killed me there but you didn’t. You only played. What scared me was the look in your eyes when you ran away. I feared something would happen to you.”

“He sent me a message but I had my phone upstairs. Kate had tried to set Jason on fire and I needed to stop them when Jason decided to show her what things could burn better than him.”

Barry snorted.

“Those kids are so cool. Terrifying but cool. I needed to be checked out in STAR labs and got some medicine but I didn’t want to wait there because I knew you wouldn’t come there. I hoped for you to check on my like you always do.”

Of course Barry knew that he visited often. Most of the times he left gifts.

“I knew who you were from the beginning. Those eyes. I couldn’t forget them. Couldn’t forget about you. You know that I liked Mick. I liked Mick and you and the children and when you came to play with me as Captain Cold and Heatwave? I knew that I wouldn’t need to hide from you. I just didn’t know how to get you to believe that I was earnest. That I care for you. I didn’t know if you would care for me too but I’ve seen it today. Please.”

“I won’t change.”

He couldn’t. He would always be a coldhearted bastard and if he would change he would most likely become worse than his dad, than a person someone like Barry could love. Mick has seen his worst. He couldn’t let Barry see it too. It was enough that Barry already knew what he was doing.

“I wouldn’t want you to change. I like you how you are. I fell for you and not some nice guy. I fell for you and for Mick and it’s completely hot to watch you both fight and I know it sounds nuts and I know that you won’t believe me but please. Can’t we try? I’ll even go slow on you. I promise.”

“You won’t!”

He didn’t need velvet gloves. He would beat him fair and square. Mick had been quiet the whole time, listening and only stroking Len’s belly during the speech. He was laughing now.

“You’re both nuts. Now sleep. I’m tired.”

“Mick…”

“No, Cold. He made his point clear. He likes you and he likes your frosty ass. And you didn’t even fight with him on the whole liking thing. It was going soft on you that you didn’t like. I’m tired of you running around each other in circles. And I’m tired right now. So either sleep or I will gag you both.”

“Kinky.” Len didn’t know how Barry could grin at him and wriggle his eyebrows, looking utterly ridiculous while doing it. Mick was right. He hated it when Mick was right. Could see right through him.

Len wanted to tell Barry that he would want to change them. That he wasn’t able to accept the darkness inside. That they were not a project that could be fixed. He wanted to tell him what a man he was, what defined him. Wanted to yell at him, show him how wrong Mick and Barry were. Instead he looked into those big puppy eyes, the dopey smiled and couldn’t. Barry would learn it and Mick would see that he was too accepting and too calm in this situation. They were both hopeless idiots.

Hesitating he reached out to Barry, fingers searching for warm skin and dragging the willing body a bit closer. Closing his eyes he could feel their warmth surrounding him. He needed to sleep. He couldn’t plan with his mind like that, he couldn’t think straight.

A hand found its way onto his neck, calloused fingers that started to massage the knots. Mean. Without being able to stop it, Len could feel his body melting and his mind going numb. He could hear the happy cooing of Barry, a quiet comment about cats from Mick and if a soft smile tugged at his lips when he drifted to sleep, well. It would be a shadow from the moon and not a real smile. Really.


End file.
